#experimental music enjoyer

[frozen-fountain]

I'm a generally spectator sport-averse person who's watched Gojira's Olympic act about fifty times now and, okay, I think I finally get it. I've never known what's like to feel as though a place is a home but I did find a home in extreme/experimental music, all those years ago, and now the whole world has had a chance to see what I see in it. To see one of the best of the best show us all how it's done with passion and purpose. Camaraderie with those who were already there and the thrill of giving everyone else a glimpse into what we're proud of and excited about and at home in. Being represented. And in such grand fashion, too.

[alexjcrowley]

The people who say that jazz artists should just "play the rights notes" are the same who thinks the curtains are just blue

[ship-bigger-than-yours]

dancing does sound fun

Hi 3! How do you feel about dancing? Is there any particular music that you like?

I enjoy looking at humans when they dance ☺️☺️☺️ I'm a little unsure if I should join them, it might make them feel awkward. Even if they like me. They're not exactly used to rogue SecUnits. But maybe one day I will feel enough confidence to dance with them. Or dance at all 😅😅😅

As for music! I enjoy every genre! Even if there's a song I don't particularly like, it just reminds me that I have a freedom to pause it and change to a different track whenever I like. It's a luxury I'm not used to yet.

[dallaji]

Control Freak.

♡ bada lee x reader / NSFW❗❗❗

SUMMARY: Your girlfriend doesn’t like giving up the reins, but perhaps with some gentle urging she will finally let loose. Even if it's just for a little bit.

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

CW: PORN WITHOUT PLOT (like leech rallay NO plot), established relationship, reader is a power bottom and bada is perplexed!! befuddled!!11, bada with a strap, toys.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: please don't kill me for not releasing a request. (〃´▽`〃) this has been in my drafts for a while, so i decided to finish it. kind of experimental / out of my comfort zone, but hopefully still enjoyable!!1 not proofread yet btw.

————— ୨୧ —————

Bada always needed to be in control.

You had noticed when you first met her.

That particular club had never been on your radar before, but your friends dragged you along and the crowd and music were decent enough. It had only taken fifteen minutes of you dancing around strangers, the heavy bass of the music controlling the sway of your body, until a pair of magnetic eyes met yours from across the room. 

Something about her beckoned you, the anticipation blooming in your stomach. Even when her arm had snaked around your lower back, signaling to any passersby that she had staked her claim, Bada couldn’t help but glance over to her friends every once in a while; making sure they weren’t going overboard with drinking. Before she took you to her place she checked in on each and every one of them, her hand never leaving your lower back.

When Bada had invited you to watch one of her dance classes, you immediately picked up on her ability to command the room. When her students performed the taught choreo back to her, Bada's eagle-like eyes searched for any out-of-place formations or unsharp movements. If anyone was off the beat, she would make them redo the entire routine start to finish. Not in a draconian way, but with words of encouragement, only ever wanting to see them give their very best.

You noticed again on one of your first dates. After offering to cook for her that evening, Bada insisted on tagging along with you to the grocery store. She had wricked the basket from your hand straight away with a half smile. Without even needing to, she reached any tall shelf regardless. 

Once settled in your small one bedroom apartment, Bada had lurked over your shoulder with curious eyes like a patient puppy, watching you prepare the meal. Before you could even ask, she handed you whichever utensils or ingredients were needed. All that despite your constant urging to have her sit back and relax.

Instead, Bada shook her head with a bashful smile: “I want to help.” Is what she had said.

You noticed in more private settings, too. 

Whenever she made you orgasm, she would lock your legs in place and deliberately hold down the thrashing of your limbs. Bada wanted to feel you lose yourself to her, and never make you forget who got you to that point.

Her hungry gaze didn't leave your face, as if she needed to commit every expression to memory. “That’s it, baby,” She’d coax, “So good for me.”

When she wore the familiar harness with her strap-on, she immediately had you bent over in a perfect angle; a hand on the back of your neck to keep you exactly where she wanted you as she pistoned her hips against you. As soon as you got close, she would pull out with a giggle, only to move you onto your back; hoisting your legs over her shoulders to see how far she could edge you along.

Sometimes you wanted to return the favor: “Let me make you feel good,” You would whisper against her lips, Bada panting underneath you as her hands found purchase on your hips. 

Despite her unwavering dedication in keeping you pliant, you were desperate to give back to her. So you would throw a leg over her waist in a foolhardy attempt to lock her into place, and Bada followed your every motion with a lovestruck expression.

However, once your fingers pressed into her, half-lidded eyes meeting yours, her hand would curl around your wrist: sometimes dictating your motions, and sometimes just to keep a tight hold on you. A silent reminder of who is in charge.

And despite this clear-cut dynamic in the bedroom, neither of you ever cared for strict roles. It wasn’t something you had ever explicitly discussed. You worked her up just as much as she did you. Some days you were both desperate for it, one shoving the other against a wall after a long week of barely getting to see each other; other days the two of you giggled under the sheets, the early morning rise peeking through the blinds as soft pants filled the room. 

Yet the outcome was always the same. Completely surrendering yourself to her as she, almost obsessively, found new ways to have you exactly the way she wanted you.

You didn’t mind, though, as it was so inherently Bada. Soft, yet capable; kind, but forthright; sometimes shy, though always poised.

But sometimes, you wondered.

After a particularly stressful day, she would lay you down on the bed and put on her strap without you even imploring her to do so. Wearing her harness, she could sometimes come from just watching your eyes roll back as she fucked into you, the suction on the back of the strap rubbing against her mound at just the right angle. 

Other times, you pushed your hand down her harness, fingers circling her folds in an attempt to keep up with the unforgiving pace of her hips. 

But most of the time, she would hold your hands over your head or against your back, and intently watch you come undone, not paying attention to her own pleasure whatsoever. 

It almost seemed to be cathartic for her, having such a control over you when her grueling schedule was something she simply underwent. When her professional life had become hectic, she barely found the energy to say ‘no’ to things. She would come to your place with tense muscles and a tired smile, but never too tired to pull you into the bedroom with a meaningful look in her eyes. You were more than willing to give her that release. What were you if not at her disposal?

But you still wondered. You believed that, from time to time, it was healthy to let go of the reins. Perhaps finding a way to relinquish at least a little bit, allowing herself to unravel in your hold, could help her blow off steam too. 

You had an idea, and what better time to try it than today?

Bada had started her day with an early photoshoot and ended it with a filmed interview. Once she had reached your apartment, you already had takeout food laid out on the table for her. She greeted you with a warm embrace, pressing a tender kiss on your lips before digging in.

With a mouthful of fried rice, she complained about unfriendly hairstylists and bad traffic, rubbing at her temples to will away a commencing headache. You listened intently before sharing your own frustrations with a project at work; Bada squeezed your hand, urging you to take a break from time to time. You chuckled at the irony. Look who’s talking.

“I have a day off tomorrow,” Bada said nonchalantly, scooping some leftover slices of beef into her bowl.

“Good thing I changed my sheets today.” You replied teasingly, stealing some of her beef.

Bada looked up at you with a mischievous grin.

Soon after you were on your bed entirely naked, panting and sensitive all over, as Bada hunched over you in nothing but her underwear. She had been teasing you relentlessly, dragging her fingernails up and down your thighs as she scattered hickeys across your skin, tonguing at each bruise she created.

"Tell me what you want, princess." She mouthed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, before her teeth pressed down in a lovebite. 

"Want to get fucked," You managed to rasp, your fingers tangling into the locks of her hair.

She hummed thoughtfully, as if she was deciding on what to eat for dinner, and you felt the reverberations against your skin: "It has been a while, hasn't it?" Her tongue licked a long stripe along the area where your cunt and thigh met, her fingertips squeezing into your quivering legs; holding them still.

It was difficult to stay focused with Bada winding you up as much as she did, but you managed to find a stable enough voice to speak: "I- I want to try something new, though..."

"Oh?” She glanced up at you from in between your legs, her mouth slick from the kisses she had left all over you.

You nodded timidly, slowly moving to sit up. Bada followed suit, watching you curiously with her hands resting atop your thighs.

From your bedside drawer you pulled a small box, quickly opening it and placing the contents on the bed. Bada raised her eyebrows.

It was a small pink bullet vibrator, and a remote.

You watched Bada do the math in her head.

“Do you want to have both…?” You almost choked on your spit, flustering not only at her suggestion but the way she seemed incredibly interested in the prospect.

“No! I want you to… wear this, while also wearing your strap,” You muttered, feeling more embarrassed by the second. Bada’s mouth formed a small ‘o’, and you continued hurriedly: “I think it would feel good, for the both of us.”

The way Bada smiled was almost cheshire-like, and she slowly pushed you down on the bed again, a newfound eagerness in her ministrations that let you breathe a sigh of relief. “Does my baby think she can handle it?” She spoke with a cloyingly sweet lilt to her voice, and you had to swallow the bratty remark on the tip of your tongue. 

Of course Bada could not conceive of herself not being able to handle it- she was still under the impression that you would be the main receiver here.

Before you could think of something to respond, Bada placed the remote and the vibrator in your hand, pressing her lips into the crook of your neck.

“Go ahead. Put it in.” She whispered, and all you could do was obey with an eagerness that left you mortified.

As her lips parted against the sensitive skin of your neck, the tip of her tongue drawing circles, your hand moved into her underwear; you rolled the bullet along the front of her heat, fingers reaching to feel the wetness of her folds. Bada hummed encouragingly, her own hands clinging onto your hips. 

You moved further down, coating the bullet with her wetness and letting it aid you when you slowly pushed it into her entrance with the tip of your finger. It earned you a soft moan from Bada, who let out a shuddered breath against your collarbones.

Before you retreated your hand, you made sure to cup her into the palm of your hand, fingers gliding along her folds. You loved how wet she got, and so fast at that. 

She sucked in a breath at your lingering touches, the sound turning into a mocking giggle. “Are you trying to tease me?”

You shuddered at the silent threat that hid behind her words, and shook your head bashfully. You promptly removed your hand, and Bada clicked her tongue in feigned indignance; but her eyes were still glazed with affection.

It was part of the game the both of you played, but you were still intent on reversing the roles at least a little bit.

Her hand came up to grab a tight hold on your face, fingertips digging into your cheeks as she forced you to meet her in a kiss. You made a desperate noise, immediately parting your lips for her as she kissed your breath away, tongue prodding against yours. 

But she ended the kiss much too soon for your liking, and you chased after her mouth. The taller girl chuckled, pushing you flat against the bed a second time by the grip she had on your face. “Patience” is all she said before moving off the bed and rummaging through the drawer for something familiar.

The strap is a similar bright pink as the bullet, and your shuddered in anticipation. You were always mesmerized from the way Bada stepped into the harness. Everything about her body language alluded to how often she wore it; she hoisted it up and expertly tightened the belts around her hips. Bada was lean, yet soft in all the right places, and the way the straps of the harness hugged around her figure complimented the subtle formation of her abs.

Nothing was ever lost on her, so Bada shot you a lopsided grin when she noticed your hungry stare. She stalked back over to you, much too patient for your liking, and climbed back to her rightful spot between your legs. You held your breath as Bada sat up on her knees, her hands curling under your thighs before she tugged you closer to her with an almost predatory look in her eyes.

She manhandled you in place, and you leaned back on your elbows in surrender. 

Her eyes raked along your figure underneath her and she leaned closer; the cold strap pressing against your navel. You subconsciously ground against it, but Bada was just beyond reach for there to be any satisfying friction.

She tilted her head playfully, a hand coming up to cradle the side of your face: “Do you want my fingers first, or can you take it?” 

You sucked in your lower lip, bringing your hands to the firmness of her stomach. “I can take it,” You responded confidently.

She hummed quietly: “Of course you can,” The look Bada gave you almost turned you into putty, and she pulled your leg around her waist, tilting her hips in such a way that the near end of the strap pressed to your folds. You wanted to rub yourself against it, but you knew better than to defy Bada in a moment like this.

Her other hand moved in between the two of you and she felt at your wetness, just as you had done to her prior. Bada, however, didn’t hesitate before drawing circles against you, your head lolling to the side with a sharp breath. She brought the strap lower on purpose, digging it between your folds before coating it with your arousal, slicking it up. 

You tried to stay still, but every slight roll of her hips had you jump at the sensitivity and you squeezed your eyes shut. That only made it worse however, as Bada took the opportunity to begin gliding the strap up and down against you, relishing in the shudders of your body. You weren’t looking, but you knew she was smiling.

She pressed a wet kiss to your collarbones and brought her hand to the base of her strap, angling her hips at your entrance. Teasingly, she prodded the tip of the strap against you and you were almost certain she was going to drag this out until she hoisted your hips onto her lap; pushing into you without a warning. 

You gasped, clutching onto her waist as you felt the strap stretch your walls. The glide was familiar enough but you couldn’t help but feel full already. You loved the way she stuffed you.

With murmurs of encouragement, Bada grabbed a hold of your hip to push in all the way to the hilt with a sharp jerk, and the movement punched a moan out of you. You clutched onto the sheets as you spread your legs further apart, and Bada greedily crowded over you.

She pulled out until just the head of the strap was still buried in you, and gave you barely a second to breathe before slamming back inside. You dug your nails into the skin of her waist with a drawn-out whine.

The pace she set was immediately ruthless; a slow retreat before punching into you, her hip bones knocking against the back of your thighs with a slapping sound. Soon you became slack jawed, almost feeling drunk on pleasure. Bada’s hands had found purchase atop your breasts, squeezing them as her hips fucked into you, your nipples peeking from between her slender fingers. 

“You take it so well,” Bada groaned, teeth gritting as she accelerated her thrusts. “It’s fucking amazing.” 

If you hadn’t initiated this with a clear plan in mind, you could feel yourself come incredibly fast this way: Bada dominating you, who was so open and willing. Your head lolled to the side as the sound of skin on skin got louder.

Through the daze of pleasure coursing through your body, your hand managed to find the remote belonging to the bullet buried inside Bada. The taller girl didn’t notice what you were reaching for, much more focused on fucking you faster and harder. 

Your fingers somehow managed to find the ‘on’-button, your body rocking back and forth as Bada fucked you, and you pressed on the first setting without warning.

Bada faltered with a curse on her lips as she felt the vibrator set off, hips momentarily freezing. She was still buried deep inside you, and you gasped. You could feel the light pulsing of the vibrating as well, and the thought made you lightheaded. 

Bada found her footing again fast enough, an incredulous laugh falling from her lips. She brusquely grabbed a hold of your face, forcing you to look at her as she stared down with fiery eyes. She slipped back into her previously unforgiven pace, almost as if she didn’t feel the vibrator at all: “You do want to— tease me.” She stated, cooing, but almost interrupting her own words with a moan as the vibrator pulsed inside of her.

You shook your head despite the grip she had on your face: “No,” You moaned breathlessly, fighting the urge to meet her thrusts because it would surely get you to your orgasm much too fast. “Jus’ wanna see you come…”

Bada groaned at your words, leaning down to meet your lips in a messy kiss that was more tongue than anything else. She angled her hips sideways, hitting into a spot that she knew could drive you crazy, this time being no different. You moaned into her mouth and she swallowed greedily, the pace of her thrusts turning faster as you felt the vibrations through her strap.

It felt so good it was dizzying, but Bada still clearly had the upper hand here, and that was not how you wanted this to go.

You moved the vibrator one setting higher. 

Bada almost keeled over at that, pressing the palms of her hands at either side of your head as her lips parted in a silent gasp. Once again her hips stuttered against you. The vibrations were stronger now: you felt it well enough through the strap buried deep inside of you. 

You watched her intently through half-lidded eyes, hands moving to her hips with the remote still in your hold, tenderly caressing along her sides. Her eyes fell shut and she wetted her lips, hips jerking in small motions as she zoned in on the pleasure. Soft gasps were slipping from you at the shallow thrusts, but you did not dare to make her go faster or deeper. The sight hanging above you was much too beautiful.

Bada snapped out of a daze, as if she could read your mind, wild eyes meeting yours. With a tight hold on your thighs, she tugged you impossibly closer to her; her body falling on top of yours, chest to chest, and then she forced her strap deeper into you with a sharp thrust of her hips. You let out a shocked gasp, ankles crossing over her lower back as she hit the spot that made your toes curl. You could feel the vibrations even stronger now, and it seemed Bada was well aware.

“Should I make you come like this? With me staying still?” There was bite to her tone, and you mentally cursed yourself for the lewd moan that fell from your lips as she gave another thrust. You had to actively fight the urge of grinding down on the strap. You knew that, if you did, you would lose this game.

Bada rested her forehead against yours as she remained frozen, watching your every expression, but you noticed her breathing growing heavier by the second.

It was the sign you needed to press the button again, activating the second-to-last highest setting of the bullet.

“FUCK!” She hissed, burying her face in the crook of your neck as her hips flinched immediately. 

You could hear her whine, a sound you rarely ever heard from her, and your mouth went dry. 

You brought a hand to the back of her head, keeping her in place as your legs remained tight around her waist, heels digging into her lower back. The vibrating was maddening for you too, already feeling a red hot tension building up in your lower stomach, and you knew well enough from alone time how strong the third setting on the remote was. 

You could tell she was still actively trying to take charge, but the soft pants against your neck betrayed her true state. Bada began thrusting in small motions, trying to get back to fucking you, but she was so clearly oversensitive from the bullet between her legs that every motion came with stutters.  

While rubbing soothing circles into her scalp, you felt her thighs clench together. Bada’s hands gripped onto the sheets, and the messiness of her thrusts became all the more apparent.

Still, you wanted to push her further.

With the hold your legs had on her, you maneuvered Bada onto her back in one swift motion. She gasped in surprise and you groaned when the strap hit deeper into you, the buzzing of the vibrator sending chills along your spine.

You sat up with an arched back and looked down at her. In turn, Bada was already staring up at you with wide, frantic eyes; her face entirely red and bangs sticking to her forehead. Her lips were parted, and even though she was entirely bewildered, the adoration was easy to read from her expression. She was looking at you as if you were the only person in the universe, almost all her bite from earlier gone.

In a last ditch effort, her hands came to grab a hold of your hips but before she could start thrusting up into you, you turned on the final and highest setting before dropping the remote next to you. 

You could see her eyes roll back, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. She was gritting her teeth, and from the way you pressed down on top of her you could feel the vibrations even clearer. With your palms pressed right above her breasts, you began to fuck yourself on her strap, your back arching even further as the pleasure ran through your body. 

Bada squeezed her eyes shut, uncharacteristically motionless under you and still hiding her moans under her palm. You promptly wrenched her hand away from her face, pinning it next to her head and you didn’t know her pupils managed to become impossibly bigger.

“Let me hear you,” You whispered on top of her, and with a particularly hard thrust you dropped your hips down on her, making Bada’s body shake.

With that encouragement, you opened her floodgates. Her thighs squeezed together below you, and the moans that began spilling from her lips were completely obscene. She was jerking her hips once again, but no longer in an attempt to fuck you into submission; instead, she was frantically chasing after the unbearable pleasure. 

Bada did not know what to do with her hands, one of them clutching onto your hip for dear life as the other balled into a fist next to her head. You angled your hips a bit differently to reach the spot that spurred you on, deftly bouncing on the strap and fucking yourself to completion.

Bada was no longer closing her eyes, staring up at you half lidded as if she never wanted to forget the sight of you on top of her. You, similarly, found her completely irresistible. Bringing your hand to her chin, you pressed your thumb to her lower lip and Bada immediately took your digit inside her mouth. 

She was clearly in a daze, intoxicated from her ecstasy, because she was barely able to suck; instead dragging her tongue messily along your finger through short moans. You dug your thumb into the hollow of her cheek, and with that Bada involuntarily jerked her hips with a groan, punching up into you. It felt as if electricity ran down your spine, and you almost felt yourself orgasm right then and there.

Her hand came up to curl around your wrist, keeping your hand in place as her eyes threatened to fall shut at how overwhelmed she felt; the buzzing of the vibrator seemingly getting louder and louder as the both of you got closer to your release. The redness of her cheeks had cascaded down to her collarbones and her eyes were uncharacteristically wet.

You pulled your thumb away, Bada whining at that once again, but you instead grabbed a hold of her face; your wet thumb smearing her own saliva across her cheek, keeping your pace on the strap steady.

“You wanna come?” You asked softly, the delicateness in your voice betraying how much of a novice you were to this dynamic.

Bada, who still seemed to be coming to terms with the switch of your positions, could only nod, though her eyes said it all: she was completely desperate.

You began gyrating your hips at that, spurring yourself closer and closer to your orgasm with heavy pants. You were feeling the familiar coil in your lower stomach, and your body was begging for release.

“Come with me,” You pleaded, and Bada tightened her hold on your wrist as she took your index- and middle finger into her mouth, moaning deeply around your digits.

Something about that sight did you in. With a few more hard drops of your hips, the sound of your ass slamming down onto the top of her thighs filling the room, you came hard. 

You dropped your head with a loud moan, fireworks coursing through your body and thighs shaking from the exertion of keeping yourself steady on top of her. In tandem with your orgasm, you felt Bada jerk violently underneath you.

She threw her head back, a silent moan stuck on her lips as your fingers slipped out of her mouth, but her grip on your wrist only tightened. Her knees came off the bed, and soon enough she was panting from the overstimulation of the vibrator still pulsing inside of her, while you were still grinding out your orgasm on her strap. 

You had half a mind to grab the remote, your own motions coming to a halt when the sensitivity became too much, and turned off the bullet.

With a lot of effort, you managed to hoist yourself off the strap; hissing at the loss of fullness. Then, you dropped yourself next to Bada, who was trying to catch her breath, thighs absentmindedly rubbing together as she could still feel the phantom sensations of the violent vibrations from the bullet.

Bada turned her head to look at you, and before you could say anything she leaned over to kiss you deeply; head tilted and lips parted. Your hand came up to cradle the side of her face as her own arms circled around your waist, pulling you close to her.

“Thank you,” She muttered against your lips, her voice laced with something deeper as she scattered lazy kisses along your jaw, and you hummed in contentment. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, your fingers blindly searching for the belts of her harness. 

“Tired…” She murmured, and you had to bite back a laugh. Now she knew how you felt after each time she had her way with you. 

Finally, you found the straps of her harness and began to unbuckle them, helping her slip out of it. Subsequently, you lowered your hand down her panties and Bada huffed a breath, still sensitive. 

You promptly removed the bullet and fixed her underwear back in place with a pat right on her crotch, purposefully forcing a reaction from her. She gasped once again, playfully glaring at you- or at least, attempting to do so. The taller girl was already on the brink of dozing off by the looks of it.

“Go to sleep,” You whispered, enveloping the both of you in a blanket with a final peck to her mouth; Bada pursing her lips a beat too late.

“You’ve got something else waiting for you in the morning…” Bada slurred with her eyes already shut.

[ghostchems]

phantom of the paradise - papa emeritus iv x reader

you go to a special screening of “phantom of the paradise” and end up being taken with the strange man who introduces the film

a/n: listen. i love awkward copia, i really do. but i also love seductive, mysterious, otherworldly copia and that is what this is. there’s just uh kissin’ here. also maybe this is me trying to get Ghost fans to watch this movie bc there’s so much ghost dna in it MAN. 3.7k words ao3 link.

Going to the movies alone never bothered you. In fact, over the years it's become one of your favorite pastimes. You can see whatever you want without worrying about finding a companion. Your taste is… well, it's your taste. Not everyone appreciates experimental '70s films or rock operas, which is exactly what you have planned for today. You've managed to snag a ticket to a rare showing of Brian De Palma's "Phantom of the Paradise" at your local independent theater. You first came across the film a few months ago, watching it nestled on your couch. From the moment it started, you knew it was something special.

You find a seat in the theater's center, perfectly positioned for the screen. Settling in, you cross your legs and place a notebook on your lap. Your pen taps rhythmically as you await the film's start, ready to jot down thoughts for your future Letterboxd review. The theater gradually fills, buzzing with excitement for this cult film on the big screen. You sigh deeply, relaxing into the plush seat. This feels like a well-deserved treat after a long work week, a chance to escape the real world for an hour and a half of drug-fueled musical numbers.

The lights start to dim and the chatter subsides. A man walks out on the stage, immediately capturing the theater’s attention. His appearance is nothing short of ghostly. His face is painted like a skeleton, with stark white bone-like features contrasting against the dark hollows of his eyes and cheeks. What's most striking, however, are his eyes - one a piercing white, the other an eerie green. He's dressed in a stylishly tattered suit jacket paired with a vibrant blue cravat at his neck. You glance down at your notepad and write:

Spooky ghost man.

He approaches the small podium and adjusts the microphone awkwardly. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak with a hint of an Italian accent, his captivating tone immediately drawing in the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, 'Phantom of the Paradise' isn't just a film to me." He pauses, his mismatched eyes scanning the crowd. "It taught me about the power of music, the price of ambition, and the beauty of the bizarre. It inspired me to embrace my own uniqueness." His words hang in the air for a moment before he concludes, "I hope it moves you as deeply as it moved me. Enjoy the show." His lips quirk into a barely perceptible grin as he taps his notecard against the podium. There’s scattered applause.

The lights dim further, signaling the film's start, yet your gaze remains transfixed on the ghost man, his stark white skull paint a beacon in the darkness. As you attempt to redirect your focus to the screen, a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention. The ghost man has silently glided into your row, settling a few seats away. Throughout the film, his presence lingers beside you, more aware of him than you would like to admit. His reactions prove oddly charming—a soft chuckle punctuating comedic moments, a subtle lean forward during tense scenes. What captivates you most is his quiet humming along to select musical numbers, his voice a barely perceptible whisper that, surprisingly, enhances rather than detracts from your enjoyment.

His enthusiasm is palpable, and you can't help but feel intrigued. As "The Hell of It" plays during the end credits, his soft singing drifts to your ears. The haunting melody lingers in the air as you find yourself unconsciously tapping your foot to the rhythm. When the lights slowly come up, you turn to catch a glimpse of the mysterious ghost man, only to find his seat empty. Blinking in surprise, you shift your gaze to your notebook. You realize there are more notes about the him than the movie itself.

Gathering your belongings, you linger in your seat for a moment, still processing the film and the man’s lingering presence beside you. You make your way to the lobby, your eyes scanning the crowd, searching for him. But he's nowhere to be seen. Without thinking, you’re already stepping out onto the street, the cool afternoon air hitting your face. You pause, unsure of what you're looking for or why. That's when you spot him—a flash of white and tattered elegance disappearing into an alley behind the theater. Without thinking, you follow, your footsteps quickening as you approach the narrow passage.

You round the corner, you catch sight of him walking away, unhurried and almost graceful. You hesitate, torn between calling out to him and silently observing this strange, captivating figure as he moves further into the shadows. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks. Without turning around, he speaks, amusement in his voice. "Are you following me, friend?" There's no accusation in his tone, just a gentle question. He slowly turns to face you, his mismatched eyes twinkling with an odd sort of understanding. "I suppose the film wasn't quite enough for you either, hm?" He chuckles softly, seemingly at ease with the situation.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I... I really liked your introduction," you stammer, feeling a bit foolish. "I'm sorry for following you. I don't usually do this kind of thing."

The ghost man's painted lips curl into a smile. "No need to apologize, tesoro. I tend to have this effect on people. Though, not typically from my film introductions." He takes a step closer, his eyes studying you with curiosity.

"Thank you," you say, offering a small smile. "I thought your introduction was really nice. It added something personal." You hesitate for a moment before continuing. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but... your appearance. Are you like dressed as a character from something?”

The ghost man's smile widens. "Ah, always the question, isn't it?" he says, running a hand through his graying brown hair hair. "This is… eh, me in a way. It’s a long story." He chuckles softly, the sound echoing in the alley. His expression shifts, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor. "Perhaps... perhaps it would be easier if I showed you," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Would you like to see?"

"How could you show me?" you ask, curiosity and caution in your voice.

His ghost man's eyes brighten. "There's something not far from here that will explain better than my words ever could," he says, gesturing down the alley. "It's just around the corner."

A part of you suspects this could be a trap. You're reminded of the film—how Leach's initial trust in Swan led to his downfall. Yet, despite the warning bells in your head, you find yourself nodding. "Alright," you say, surprising yourself. "I'll come with you."

The ghost man's painted face softens. "Thank you for trusting me," he says quietly, a hint of warmth in his voice. "This way, per favore." He turns and begins to walk deeper into the alley, his movements slow and deliberate. Your eyes fall to his pants, tattered just like his coat and tight. You trail behind him, notebook still in hand as a sense of unease begins to creep over you. The dimly lit alley seems to go on forever. Where could he be taking you? Why not just explain himself?

After a few minutes of walking, you find yourself standing before a small chapel tucked away a few blocks from downtown. There's something unsettling about its appearance—the weathered stone seems to absorb the dim streetlight, and the windows are dark and opaque. Your gaze falls to a few lone gravestones in the yard. The ghost man gestures towards the entrance.

"After you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. You swallow a breath before pushing open the heavy wooden door. The interior is dimly lit, black flickering candles casting long shadows across the walls. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you gasp. Directly across from you stands a large stained glass window, its center dominated by a portrait of the ghost man himself. The inscription reads 'Papa Emeritus IV'. The window depicts him in all his skeletal glory, a coy look on his face, a barely perceptible smiles. The craftsmanship is exquisite and with vibrant colors, namely the bright blue robe adorned with intricate yellow and black designs that cloaked him. You turn to Papa, questions forming on your lips, but he's already moving towards the window, his eyes fixed on his own image.

He reaches out, his gloved fingers tracing the outline of his own face in the glass. "This is who I am," he says, his voice echoing in the empty chapel. Papa's finger traces further down to the script on the window: Avē, avē Antichriste! Avē Satana! A shiver runs down your spine as you recognize the Latin phrase. It reminds you of "The Omen." As you absorb the stained glass and the chapel's eerie ambiance, you're struck by how much Papa resembles the Phantom—not of the Paradise, but of the Opera. You can't help but draw parallels between the two figures, especially given that he's all but lured you to his secret lair.

Lost in your thoughts and the mesmerizing stained glass, you fail to notice Papa's approach. You feel his presence behind you — a chill runs down your spine as you feel his breath on your neck. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Papa's voice is soft, almost wistful.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Your heart races as you feel Papa's gloved hands gently come to rest on your shoulders. The touch is light, almost comforting, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. The stained glass before you seems to shimmer in the candlelight, Papa's painted face both mesmerizing and unsettling. You remain frozen, unable to speak, as Papa's fingers give your shoulders a gentle squeeze.

His touch lingers for a moment before he steps back, allowing you to breathe again. "Tell me," Papa's voice is low, almost hypnotic, "what do you think of my little sanctuary?"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "It's... nice," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like something out of a dream...” Or a nightmare, you think to yourself. You turn to face Papa, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "Why did you bring me here?"

Papa's lips curl into a warm smile. "To show you a glimpse of my world," he replies, his voice a low, melodious purr. "As I mentioned, I have an effect on certain people—those with open minds who might be receptive to an offer, perhaps... or simply to satisfy their curiosity."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious, the theme of this encounter. "An offer? What kind of offer?" Your jaw clenches as you recall the film, half-expecting Papa to produce a contract like Swan did with Leach.

Papa's grin widens, revealing a hint of perfectly white teeth. "Ah, curious, aren't we? Well, cara, I represent a rather... unique congregation. We're always looking to expand our flock, so to speak."

"Congregation?"

"Yes," Papa nods and a gust of air makes the candles in the room flicker. "I'm part of what you might call the Satanic church. But, eh, not to worry," he adds quickly, noticing your expression, "it’s not what you think. We're about celebrating individuality, embracing the unconventional, and most importantly... music."

You blink, struggling to process this information. "Music?" The connection suddenly clicks. "That explains why you sponsored the film."

"Oh yes," Papa says, his voice taking on a passionate tone. "Music is at the heart of what we do. It's how we express ourselves, how we connect with each other and the world around us. We have a band of ghouls and I am the bandleader — eh, but that is not my only job. It is my favorite part, though. Other than sponsoring cult films, of course.”

You hesitate, your eyes darting around the small chapel. There's an undeniable allure to Papa's words and presence, but a nagging voice in your head warns you this could be a trick. Yet, something about his sincerity and the passion in his voice when he speaks of music resonates with you.

"I... I'm not sure," you say, your voice wavering slightly. "All I had planned for today was to see a movie… not this."

Papa's expression softens. "I saw you in the theater. Your passion for the film, your openness to the unconventional. I, eh, thought you might be someone who could appreciate what we offer. Someone who might want to... explore a bit further." His words strike a chord within you, resonating with a part of yourself you didn't know existed. Your heart flutters, excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. As if sensing your stress, Papa reaches out, his gloved hand gently cupping your face. His thumb brushes along your jaw, the touch electrifying and soothing.

"There's no need to decide right now," Papa murmurs, his mismatched eyes locked with yours. "But perhaps... a taste of what we offer?" His painted lips curl into a soft, inviting smile.

Your heart races, feeling trapped. Is this really happening? You know the smart thing would be to leave, to get far away from here and forget this ever happened. But, you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing white eye.

"I... I think I'd like that," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the hushed chapel. A burning curiosity has taken hold of you, one you can't shake. Papa's otherworldly aura envelops you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. His hand drifts from your cheek to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. With his other hand, he takes your notebook—the last barrier between you—and tosses it over his shoulder.

Your breath catches in your throat as Papa leans in, his painted face drawing closer. As his lips meet yours, time seems to slow. The kiss is unlike anything you've ever experienced—soft yet electrifying, tender yet passionate. The gentle pressure of his lips sends waves of heat through your body, each one more intense than the last. You find yourself leaning into him, your hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tattered coat. Papa's arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer until you're pressed against him. The scent of incense, candlewax, and a hint of brimstone envelops you, making your head spin.

His lips move against yours with increasing fervor, and you feel yourself getting lost in the sensuality of the moment. The kiss deepens, and you taste a hint of something sweet on his tongue. It's intoxicating, addictive, and you find yourself wanting more. His gloved hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue explores your mouth with skilled precision. Your knees weaken, and you cling to him for support, your fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. The kiss seems to last for an eternity, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with desire. When Papa finally pulls away, you gasp for air, your chest heaving. Your lips feel swollen and sensitive, tingling with the lingering effects of his touch.

His appearance is noticeably more disheveled now, his painted face slightly smudged and his tattered coat askew. His mismatched eyes gleam with a wild intensity, and his chest rises and falls rapidly, mirroring your own breathlessness. It's clear that the kiss affected him just as profoundly as it did you. His gloved hands still rest on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle.

"My, my," he purrs, his voice husky and low. "You are full of surprises, aren't you?" A sly smile plays on his lips as he regards you with a mixture of admiration and desire. The candles in the chapel seem to flicker more intensely, casting dancing shadows across his painted features. “May I kiss you again?” When he asks so politely, how can you say no?

"Yes," you breathe, barely audible even to yourself. "Please."

Papa's eyes flash with desire as he swiftly lifts you, his surprising strength catching you off guard. He sets you down on the altar, the cold stone a stark contrast to your heated skin. His lips crash against yours once more, hungry and demanding. His gloved hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You arch into his touch, lost in his enveloping presence. He draws your lower lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth along it, eliciting a gasp from you.

He plants a few kisses to the corner of your mouth, then drifts to your jaw and further down. His lips trace a tantalizing path along your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine. As he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, you feel his hot breath against your skin, causing goosebumps. Papa's kisses become more insistent as he moves down your neck with soft, feather-light touches and more passionate, open-mouthed kisses. Your breath hitches as he finds a particularly sensitive spot at the base of your neck and you can feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin.

You can't help but wonder if you've crossed a line you can't come back from — but do you really care at the moment?

Papa lifts his head to meet your gaze, his face paint now thoroughly smeared. You wonder if any has transferred onto you. He leans in, his strong nose brushing along your cheek as he presses his forehead against yours. Suddenly, the candles flicker out, plunging you both into darkness—save for the ethereal glow of the stained glass window. He rests hands resting on either side of you and his chest heaves with each breath. His ghostly eyes, glazed with desire, lock onto yours as he watches you catch your breath. "Will you consider joining my flock?" he asks, his voice husky.

You struggle to catch your breath, your mind still hazy from the intensity. "I... I'll think about it," you manage to say between gasps, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his offer hangs in the air.

Papa's lips curl into a grin, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "Take all the time you need, tesoro," he purrs. "When you're ready… I'll find you." He leans in, his painted face mere inches from yours. His gaze searches your face, a flicker of softness in its depths. With careful gentleness, he presses his lips to yours. This kiss is vastly different from his other kisses — tender, almost romantic. As he pulls away, you feel a pang of loss. Papa's smile returns as he takes a step back, his gaze never leaving yours. "Until we meet again," he murmurs.

You watch as he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing in the small chapel, growing fainter until they fade entirely. Left alone on the edge of the altar, you're surrounded by flickering candles and the lingering scent of incense. A part of you considers calling out, asking him to stay, but something holds you back. In the end, you let him go. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Your legs feel shaky as you slide off the altar, adjusting your clothes with trembling hands. The cool air of the chapel hits your flushed skin, bringing you back to reality. Eye scan the dimly lit space, searching for your notebook. You spot it on a nearby pew, right where you must have dropped it earlier. Opening the notebook to a fresh page, you fumble for your pen. Your hand is still unsteady as you begin to scribble down the man’s name and the Latin on the stained glass, a reminder of the otherworldly encounter you just had.

With one last glance around the empty chapel, you clutch your notebook to your chest and make your way towards the exit. The outside world feels startlingly normal after what you've just experienced. Your feet hit the ground with renewed purpose as you head back to your apartment.

Your mind wanders as you walk home. You can't help but wonder if Papa's offer is similar to Swan's - a large contract signed in blood that would bind you to him until death. Perhaps you’re being dramatic. He seemed to model himself after the phantom, but you're not so sure of his intentions. There's something more sinister about Papa that sets him apart. The way he moved, the intensity of his gaze, the power of his touch - it all hints at something beyond human. You shiver, remembering the electrifying sensation of his kiss, the intoxicating taste on his tongue. Part of you is terrified, but another part is thrilled by his allure.

You approach your apartment but you find yourself glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Papa's striking figure materialize from the shadows. The memory of his touch lingers on your skin, and you can still taste the sweetness of his kiss on your lips. You unlock your door with trembling hands and quickly close it once inside, leaning against it with a slow exhale. Your eyes fall on your laptop, and a sudden urge overtakes you. You rush to it, opening a new browser window. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before you type: "Papa Emeritus IV”.

There he is, Papa Emeritus IV, in all his ghoulish glory. The images match perfectly with the man you encountered in the chapel - the skull-like face paint, and his haunting white eye. You scroll through countless photos, some showing him in the tattered suit you saw today, others in the more elaborate robes depicted in the stained glass window. Your heart races as you dig deeper. The Satanic church he mentioned? It's real, though perhaps not in the traditional sense you might have imagined. It's more of a theatrical rock band called Ghost, with Papa as the frontman. Their music videos and live performances are a spectacle of occult imagery and rock opera grandeur, reminiscent of the very film you just watched.

Everything Papa told you checks out. The band of ghouls, his role as the bandleader, the emphasis on individuality and unconventional expression - it's all there, laid out in interviews, fan forums, and official band statements. You even find mentions of their penchant for sponsoring cult film screenings, just like the one you attended. As you lean back in your chair, a mix of emotions washes over you. Relief at him telling you the truth, confusion at his theatrics. Your fingers unconsciously trace your lips, remembering the electrifying kiss.

You can't help but wonder: what would joining his "flock" truly entail?

[musicfranchisetournament]

propaganda under the cut !!

ensemble stars :

what can I say. it's the no.1 highest earning joseimuke of recent times for a reason. i wouldn't say it was the founding father of male idol franchises but it's undoubtedly important for them and the popularization of them. the characters are enjoyable and the story writing is (sometimes) done pretty nicely. when the songs hit well they hit GOOD. with a cast of over 50 characters you're pretty bound to find someone you'll enjoy, you know. there's a nice variation on unit archetypes that is great for music variation :]

There's just soo much happening in this goddamn idol thing I hope it loses bleehh

Idol game except the plot is NOT what you would expect of an idol game. Notably : murder, the War, vampires, and a guy who lives in the vents.

"oh it's just a silly little idol game" and then the silly little idol game has some of the craziest lore you've seen

milgram :

it's very cool and interesting !! idk !

SUCH a unique concept. I love it so much. Delivering insight into characters crimes and psyches through music?! Genius. And the music all slaps too. The VAs are all super talented, the voices all sound different from one another, and even when a character's music style switches between T1 and T2 to reflect their mental state, there are still things making it obvious it's the same character. Also the VA for Haruka (best character in MILGRAM) is the guy who voiced Linhardt (best character in hit turn-based strategy RPG Fire Emblem: Three Houses for the Nintendo Switch) in the JP soooo. Awesome and based, Fire Emblem fans vote for this one. (Also I think there's other overlap of VAs with Fire Emblem but like Natsuki Hanae has been in everything so of course there is)

genuinely so sooo interesting to me from a standpoint. not only is a franchise that runs and happens in direct response to what the fans decide to do with it but also the songs and mvs are sooo good and it's such a nice thing to see coming off of deco, feeling like a passion project with all the different song style and experimentation going on in them. ive been there since the beginnings and its a great feeling to see just how much everyone involved in the project be it art, music etc has improved. the moral experiment point of it is something very curious to follow for me and see people discussing their votes or takes on things as to why they voted for x thing or another is nice! the deco song remixes that always come with the characters album release are (mostly) fire too. milgram my best friend milgram

The songs are absolute bangers!! And each character is so compelling and it's really interesting to see how the audience's votes impact the story and the characters!

[nanichi0]

What are some of your Noritoshi headcanons?

Noritoshi my beloved!!

Sorry my response is so delayed 😭 I had to think about these for a while because I hadn’t really come up with a lot of HCs for Nori. This list includes NSFW HCs so minors please DNI! Some of these are general HCs and some are domestic AU. NSFW HCs are written with an AFAB reader in mind.

-He’s an early bird and usually wakes up before you. He tries to get out of bed without disturbing you so you can get as much sleep as you need, then sets about his morning routine.

-This includes brewing some coffee while he brushes his teeth, showers, and gets dressed for the day.

-Noritoshi likes straight black coffee, no sugar added. He actually enjoys the bitterness of it.

-If you are a coffee or tea enjoyer he will make you some to your liking.

-Due to all the time Noritoshi spent studying for the TOEIC, he can speak English pretty fluently now

-This comes in handy whenever you guys are traveling abroad

-Noritoshi likes traveling, although he’s a bit picky with foreign foods. He’ll still eat it even if he doesn’t like it, but he much prefers the Japanese food that he’s accustomed to.

-In his spare time he likes to read, practice archery, or listen to music.

-He loves orchestral music, especially movie soundtracks.

-Noritoshi likes when you play with his hair. If his hair is short, he likes when you run your nails on his scalp. When it’s longer, he lets you brush it or braid it if you want.

-It takes a while for him to open up to people about his feelings. He’s very cautious about revealing information to new people. Once you’ve fully gained his trust, though, he’s an open book.

-Despite his stoic nature and his cold demeanor toward certain people, he does care a lot about his peers, and anyone who is under his leadership.

-He has a fear of abandonment as well as a deep worry that he just isn’t good enough 😕

-Because of this, he doesn’t like to grow too attached or dependent on anyone.

-For the same reason, when Noritoshi develops feelings for you, he has a hard time coming to terms with it.

-He can get jealous pretty easily. If he sees someone trying to flirt with you he can’t help but worry that you’d somehow find that person better for you than he is. Despite that, he doesn’t let it get toxic and he’ll usually talk about it with you.

-He’s not really the type to show lots of PDA but if you’re out and about he likes to be holding your hand

Okay time for some nsfw stuff

-He’s a boob guy. I just feel it in my soul.

-If you’re cuddling and you’re the little spoon Noritoshi will wrap his arms around you and grab your boobs. Most of the times he does this it’s not even sexual, there’s just something comforting about it for him.

-Sometimes he’ll squeeze them a little too hard and he’ll apologize but he just can’t help it when they feel so soft in his hands 😔

-He loves missionary and he definitely sucks on your boobs while he’s fucking you

-Noritoshi also likes when you ride him, especially in the cowgirl position because he can see your tits bounce and if you lean forward he can bury his face in them

-Noritoshi loves to leave marks on your body. He pays special attention to your neck and chest, of course, but he also likes to bite and leave hickeys on your thighs and your ass. He avoids marking the more visible parts of your body too much but sometimes he’ll strategically place a hickey on your neck so that it peeks slightly over your neckline when you’re dressed.

-In general he doesn’t curse or talk a lot when he’s having sex.

-When he’s on top and he’s really into it he’ll grunt a lot, though

-But if you’re riding him or you pull on his hair? He turns into a breathy, whiny mess and the only way to muffle the sounds is to shove your tits in his face (why muffle his whines when he sounds so pretty and needy, though? 🥺)

-The first time you pulled his hair during sex was purely experimental, so his reaction caught you both by surprise. Safe to say he was very flustered.

-He likes when you praise him or let him know how good he’s making you feel

-Noritoshi loves the slow, very intimate moments. Pull him into a deep kiss while he’s buried inside you and he’ll feel so loved and wanted ❤️

-He has very high stamina and, thanks to his blood manipulation, he can keep himself hard even after cumming. If you wanna go for more rounds he has no problem with it.

-He usually pulls out and cums on your stomach and breasts

-He’s extremely good with his hands. His hands are well-manicured and he has long, slender digits that are perfect for fingering you.

-Sometimes he uses the Crimson Binding technique to tie your hands up

-He’s generally very gentle with you but there are definitely times where he gets a little carried away. Sometimes you’ll be giving him head and he will thrust into your mouth a bit too harshly and cause you to choke or tear up. He always apologizes though.

-Noritoshi kinda has a thing for having sex in semi-public places. Something about the risk of someone in his position getting caught performing lewd acts gets his adrenaline pumping. He doesn’t act on this very often but there are times when he’ll pull you into a room, down the hallway from where a clan meeting is about to take place, just for a quickie. So far nobody’s been able to tell…although you suspect Gojo Satoru might know what you’ve been up to.

That’s all I can think of atm! I love Noritoshi and he’s so under-appreciated 😭 Thank you for reading 💗💗

[aangelinakii]

WHAT MUSIC THEY WOULD LISTEN TO.

characters written about in this piece : bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, barbara gordon, duke thomas, stephanie brown, cassandra cain

not proofread !

note : if you actually went and read through all of this i will actually smooch you

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce isn't an average music enjoyer, so he doesn't really have many preferences to what he listens to. all i know is that he doesn't like music that is too upbeat, like many pop songs.

perhaps in his angsty emo the batman 2022 phase, he would listen to metal, heavy guitars and drums, similar to jason. but as he develops as a philanthropist and vigilante, he would sway towards classical music without words. it helps him concentrate in many situations, and different artists or albums can convey so many different emotions in their music.

this music often plays within his office at wayne enterprises, the batcave whilst he's researching on the computer, or even just throughout the manor whilst he's doing bruce wayne shit.

songs i think he would like :

jazz suite no. 2: vi. waltz 2, dmitri shostakovich

12 études op.25: no. 11 in a minor "winter wind", frédéric chopin

vi. lacrimosa dies illa, slovak philharmonic

tango - bof "kuduz", goran bregović

le cygne (arr. for harp and cello), camille saint-saëns

le nozze di figaro k.492: overture, wolfgang amadeus mozart

DICK GRAYSON

i can see dick as someone who incorporates music a lot into his every day life; playing something on his alexa as he cooks dinner, listening to something in airpods as he walks around gotham during the day, hums or whistles a tune as he surveys the streets of blüdhaven at night. i don't think he would have taken up learning any instruments, but he's a very musical person, knows how to hold a rhythm as well.

he's into more modern music, very much frank ocean. he likes chill music with a good beat and maybe some good vocals. as long as the song overall sounds good, he doesn't really pay attention to lyrics. if a song he likes has weird lyrics, he'll only notice it one random day as he's singing along, and begin to overthink them in the shower and wonder why they were written in the first place.

songs i think he would like :

swim good, frank ocean

she, tyler the creator & frank ocean

novacane, frank ocean

dance now, joey valence & brae

wet dreamz, j cole

mysëlf, yeat

JASON TODD

i actually have a jason playlist here !

i think jason enjoys darker sounding music, but it can go one of two ways; either loud guitar, or absolutely gut wrenching vocals. i'm talking lyrics mixed with the perfect pleading voice to make you feel just numb inside.

jason has experienced a lot of loss and trauma in his life, so sometimes he may feel numb and just need to amp it up with a loud deftones song, or he is feeling too much, and needs a mellow, yet depressing mitski song to bring him back down. granted, neither are the happiest options, but it's what works for him.

songs i think he would like :

xerces, deftones

danger, south arcade

i don't smoke, mitski

come home to god, amaarae

smoke sprite, so!yoon!

dagger, slowdive

TIM DRAKE

LMAO i think this guy would be such a closeted theatre kid. he's watched all the heathers slime videos and watched hamilton and newsies on disney plus. he loves it, it just evokes an entirely different feeling. he would never tell anybody about this side though, which is why these playlists are kept privateee on his spotify.

so when he's with other people he shows that he listens to more mainstream artists, but likes an experimental sound, so maybe some tyler here and some carti there, but they aren't his go-to artists.

songs i think he would like :

boyfriend, tyler the creator

flex, playboi carti

non-stop, broadway cast of hamilton

once upon a december, broadway cast of anastasia

meet the plastics, broadway cast of mean girls

miso, edv & bigbabygucci

DAMIAN WAYNE

this little shit only exclusively listens to either classical music (aww look at him taking after his own papa) or the heaviest, scariest rock metal you've ever heard. bonus points if it's metal with classical undertones !!! he loves that shit, not that he would show it.

when he does his homework or falls asleep, he listens to heavyyy heavy metal. when he's eating a sandwich in the kitchen, or training in the batcave he'll be listening to classical music. see? it's not exactly linear.

songs i think he would like :

carnival of the animals: aquarium, camille saint-saëns

romeo and juliet op.64 - act 1: balcony scene - romeo's variation - love dance, sergei prokofiev

the isle of the dead op.29, sergei rachmaninoff

immortal rites, morbid angel

them bones, alice in chains

BARBARA GORDON

barbara is a woman on the quieter side, despite herself. i feel towards others she is more outgoing and reliable, but when she's with herself, she likes to wind down and just sit with her thoughts. she likes jazz, slow and soft, and the type of music you would find in music from the 50s and 60s. there's something wistful about it that she just loves.

this type of music can help her concentrate. she listens to music whilst reading, or whilst sitting behind the computer as oracle during less high-tension moments.

songs i think she would like :

the shadows of paris, elsie bianchi trio

piano and strings, henry mancini

a night to remember, beabadoobee & laufey

la javanaise, serge gainsbourg

jane b, jane birkin

my favourite game, the cardigans

DUKE THOMAS

we can all agree that duke is one of the more positive members in the family, trying his best to keep his optimistic outlook despite the rest of the world, and the rest of gotham especially. he likes songs with meaning, although hidden behind a happy instrumental and youthful vocals, but he also enjoys just plain old happy-go-lucky sounding songs.

i also think he's a very musical person, always got headphones on. he probably gets that one notification at least once a week telling him his volume is too high in his ears.

he loves to dance, so songs that he can get lost in and have a little jam sesh in his bedroom are a must!!!

songs i think he would like :

useless, omar apollo

the magic number, de la soul

batshit, dominic fike

breadwinner, floyd fuji & topaz jones

the violence, childish gambino

smokin out the window, silk sonic

STEPHANIE BROWN

as for stephanie, this girl listens to EVERYTHING. she listens to kpop, shoegaze, indie, rnb, 2010s pop, jazz likeeeee she will literally listen to anything. she doesn't have playlists she just fr adds every song she likes to "liked songs" and listens to it on shuffle, and whatever comes up she listens to without an issue. almost never skips songs because she's so open to anything and everything.

like one minute she could be listening to her fav red velvet album, and then the next min she's on the verge of tears listening to phillipa soo sing burn on the hamilton soundtrack.

songs i think she would like :

so good, red velvet

cola head, willow kayne

if you want to, beabadoobee

call me maybe, carly rae jepsen

xxl, young posse

unchained memory, cafuné

CASSANDRA CAIN

following her quieter nature, i can't see cass listening to anything too upbeat or loud. she'll like a softer instrumental but with an emotional vocal line, almost as if getting to express the things she may not be fully able to towards her family and friends.

may enjoy a good old shoegaze or indie song here and there, especially if she's feeling more emotional, as she feels the sound of the song encapsulates her emotions.

songs i think she would like :

only, lee hi

chocolate and mint, duster

slow burn, infinity song

gaia, lexie liu

emo song, beabadoobee

chaos angel, maya hawke

[briancocksofficial]

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE BARLES BINGUS BOG BAND, PART 2

What is it? 

It's a bog-themed concept album that's been gently dipped in the idea of jazz, and an accompanying murder (maybe!) mystery short story which was accidentally dropped in the jazz and has been soaking in it for several hours now.

Who is it for? 

Those who like their music genres ill-defined, enjoyers of bad puns on a somewhat niche subject, and ones who have a taste for silly stories with accompanying experimental music.

Why would you make this? 

I was compelled to, by no one in particular.

What about the frogs?

What frogs? I don't see any frogs. Stop asking about the frogs.

Why are you so defensive about the frogs?

I'm not defensive. There are no frogs in my vicinity, and I have not been writing an album while locked in a room with hundreds of them for several months.

Several months? What have you been eating?

They made me soup. Do not ask who "they" are.

Was the soup good?

Yes, it was. Thanks for asking.

And the album?

That remains to be seen.

Where can I get it?

You can find it for free on my website or on Bandcamp. If you want a plot-free listening experience, it's also available to stream on Spotify and other major streaming services.

Can I meet the frogs?

Please don't ask any more questions. I just want to see my family again.

[zot3-flopped]

“I am a big lyrics enjoyer and value them a lot as part of the listening experience. But I also love love love the musicality in his arrangements. His voice as instrument is incredibly well-used, too. There is a reason he got those AOTY awards. He is no lightweight pushing out a pop product.”

This is so true. There is so much more to Harry’s songs than just the lyrics. I don’t dislike Anti-Hero, for example, I think it has some interesting turns of phrase, but a couple of listens and then your like, ok, I got it, and there is nothing left to keep your interest. But As It Was holds up over multiple, daily listens. There is a reason it continues to stream so highly over 2 1/2 years after its release. It’s got the whole package. Lyrics that make you think, arrangement that keeps you interested, vocals that show so much range and experimentation. All of Harry’s discography has such great arrangements. Fine Line is just gorgeous, Carolina is so fun and keeps you guessing, Satellite is so different. I could go on and on, obviously I’m a Harry lover - lol! But the point stands that his songs withstand time and never get boring. Lyrics only get you so far, and while Taylor can write some decent poem like songs, for me they just don’t really go anywhere musically.

I can’t wait to see what Harry’s got coming up next, whereas you know exactly what you are going to get with Taylor before you even hit play.

Love this! 👏👏👏👏

[obsessivemusicfr3ak]

10/18/24 12:00 AM

NEW FUCKING MACHINE GIRL ALBUM JUST DROPPED WE FUCKING LISTENING BITCH

1:Ok fr tho already heard first song from single its aight (better than i remember now that im listening again) ((theres also no lyrics out yet so im not gonna mention those at all))

2:Second song titled "nu nu meta phenomenon" is fucking INCREDIBLE the sound design and awesome drums continue the awesome trend of live instrumentation mixed with glitchy elements that leads to a heavenly experience!

3:Glitchy goodness continues on the third track, which has some amazing synth leads that are just a fucking amazing vibe. The ending is great aswell! A nice build up and climax to some CRAZY noise.

4:The standout element of this album is definitely the drums. The groove you get from them is exemplified perfectly on this track. Pretty nice track although ill have to let it grow on me a bit ngl.

5:This track is completely unique from anything else ive heard on the album. (I cannot get over the fact that the first verse uses the same flow as your favorite martian on mr douchebag.) The sound design continues to be otherwordly, legitimately so on this track sounding like music from outerspace. The latter half of this track is a lot more smooth and enjoyable than the first half.

6:Ohhh my god this interlude is amazing. Super ambient yet creepy vibes. Just a really nice relaxing track im definitely coming back to a ton.

7:Ive heard this song before. Absolute peak. Easily top 3 machine girl songs ever released, imo. Perfect blend of awesome electronic drums and live instrumentation in the more "punk rock" sections. The idm sections have an awesome groove and the transitions to the punk rock sections are just SO good. When this first dropped i was very surprised by it, but hearing it in context it makes perfect sense and fits snuggly as the center of this album.

8:Super cool track. Awesome drum grooves with some really unique vocals. Overall this is just a really fun song, with the high pitch really "bright" sounding instruments. The switch up later on brings a really nice element to this track aswell. Will be returning to this track many times i can tell. Not much to say here its just really good lol

9:The high pitch vocals really make this track for me. Super (again) groovy feel and awesome sound. The chaotic ending gives this track a good feel that makes it stand out from the rest of the tracklist

10:Living up to its name, "Grindhouse" starts with super dark feeling, as if you are in a house party on acid in a movie. This track just gets me moving man its so dancable! The second part of this track blends themes of house and techno with the experimental dark sound going on here, machine girl style with crazy sound design and distinctly machine girl vocals. This song just has a bounce to it that i love.

11:Another great interlude that sounds like a radio transition on a bad trip.

12:Transition into this song was amazing. The vocals already are captivating me with this aphex twin drukqs synth vibe, similar to cock/ver10. Vibing hard to this crazy ass track, just loving this switchup midway through, suddenly switching to a nice chill beat that still somehow sounds cracked out. AND IT SWITCHES UP AGAIN! Holy this song is so fucking good... the bass synths going loud in my ears and insane sounds im hearing definitely makes this track sound exactly like its name, "schizodipshit". The glitchyness adds to it aswell, and the cut back to reality with this simple beat right after omggg this song is phenomenal!!!!!

13:This was the third single for MG Ultra, and i love this song through and through, from the starting section with amazing drumming and superb chorus. I know the lyrics by heart to this song already i love it so much!! Its super relatable to me with it being about being belittled in small ways adding and not feeling respected by your peers. With lines like "psychic attack, when you're talking shit behind my back, psychic attack when i fall and hear your laughter" reveals this theme. Amazing final track that is a perfect closer for this just amazing album.

FINAL THOUGHTS: This album is the start of a new direction for machine girl, one of punk rock influence and more live instrumentation which I am really excited for! This keeps the same crazy energy and wild sound design and mixes it with punk rock groovyness. A must listen for machine girl fans. They have outdone themselves with this record. 10/10

[th3w00ds]

MadPat Headcanons

MadPat is quite a unique person

He’s half human and half demon

Specifically, half fire demon

Never knew who his birth parents were

Mad was adopted by a man named William Afton from a young age, who later abandoned Mad altogether when William’s first biological child was born, named Micheal

Mad’s legal name is Madrick Afton

He picked up his skill for inventing and building from William, or rather, William’s friend, Henry Emily

Henry offered to teach Mad to build

So that’s how he learned

After Mad was abandoned by William, he was already 17 years old

Mad had broken into a home to stay in

It was abandoned and basically entirely empty, so he decided to stay there until he could afford a home

Mad didn’t know he was half demon at all until he turned 23 years old

While he was building his precious flamethrower chainsaw (who he named Rex) one of the pieces of it malfunctioned, causing a fire in Mad’s basement which was where he built his creations

Mad grabbed his chainsaw from the flames, and to his surprise and shock… he didn’t get burned

Well, he did get burned, it just didn’t hurt

Mad couldn’t feel it

Which in his mind, negated the fact he was burnt in the first place

Were he fully a fire demon, then he would have full immunity to flames, but since he’s half human, he doesn’t feel pain from fire, it just burns him

Because of that he gets very reckless whenever anything involves fire

Mad got employed at a local Freddy Fazbear’s location, and quickly rose to the position of manager/boss

In general, Mad always disregarded things like laws

He killed and dissected animals as a child since he found it interesting and didn’t ever feel any remorse for it

He was just learning new things, who could fault him for it?

That later progressed to murder when he got older

He did a few dissections, but he found that he preferred the actual act of murdering humans more enjoyable

He has done many experiments on them, and loves to include fire as he can control it

Mad thinks that charred human flesh tastes pretty good, all things considered

He killed four kids after luring them from his Fazbear’s location

Mad was very surprised when they’d possessed the animatronic puppets that his restaurant used

He had treated them relatively well after they died since he couldn’t do anything about them possessing his puppets

Later hired Sol (Night Guard Mark) after Nyx (Night Guard Nate) left the restaurant

Leading to the events of FNaF the Musical

Mad now has burn scars over most of his body due to the fire at the end of Night 5, even if he couldn’t feel the fire burning him

Mad ended up in prison (which he quickly broke out of)

Now he’s looking for Nyx and Sol, to get his revenge on them

Although he does commit the occasional murder, arson, kidnapping and human experimentation while doing that

@nwtbobsessedemo @flaming-dolph16 @colourfulmes @bondoes-art @themoonisrotting

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

here’s my entry for @gem-pearl-week 2024 day 7! today’s prompt is “dancing”

The music disc is new.

It’s an experimental loop from Cub – just a test of the disc-burning system. He’s put it up for sale in the horn store for a discount, and of course, curiosity kills the Pearl once again. She drops a few diamonds into the chest, takes a disc, and returns to her shopping spree.

It takes her until she unpacks her inventory at the end of the day to remember the disc is there. “Oh, hey,” she murmurs as she takes it out of her pocket and looks at it. “Forgot about this one! Guys, I got us some new music.”

From another room, Matchbox barks happily in response.

Pearl takes her jukebox out of a nearby chest and plops it down on the floor. “I didn’t know people made music here.”

To her surprise, the back of the disc has names written on it. One particular name catches her eye – according to Cub’s annotation, Gem provided some guitar chords. “Oh, nice, I gotta tell her about this!” Pearl drops the disc into the jukebox and presses play.

The song is weird. It’s really weird, with odd chip noises and computer sounds scattered throughout. It’s as though someone pressed random piano notes and then set them to a rhythm. It definitely isn’t the sort of song most people would find catchy – or maybe even enjoyable. But still…

A fizzy, bubbly feeling builds up in Pearl’s chest, spreading out to her head and body. Her wings flutter almost involuntarily, opening and closing in a soft rhythm. She taps her foot and bobs her head, and her fuzzy antennae bounce around. It’s so much fun. It’s too much fun.

The song ends its loop and starts over in a seamless transition. Pearl feels her brain overflowing with that fizzy feeling. She wants to listen to it over and over. She can’t quite talk, but she can’t help but make soft clicking and squeaking sounds. Her wings flutter, her antennae bounce, she beams with excitement, and then–

Pearl bounces on her toes, practically drifting into the air. Her hands flap interchangeably with her wings, joining her endlessly moving antennae. She giggles and squeaks as Gem’s upbeat guitar riff joins the instrumental. Okay, that part’s catchy. It loops again, then again. Pearl has probably listened to it more times than everyone else on the server combined, but she doesn’t want to stop.

There’s a knock on her door.

The sudden sound startles Pearl out of her fizzy feeling. Could anyone hear the music disc? Did someone see me? Are they going to judge me? “Oh, okay, I’m coming!”

Pearl opens the door and realizes two things at the same time. First of all, her visitor is Gem, which would be fun at any other time. But second of all, and more importantly, her windows were wide open. Gem definitely heard the music – and saw Pearl dancing.

Gem waves. “Hey, Pearl! I just came to place an order for– ooh, is that Cub’s song? It’s really catchy!”

“Yep!” Pearl tries to play it off. “The jukebox is in the other room. What did you want?”

“Wait, can we listen to it? I haven’t heard it yet!”

“Sure!” Pearl surreptitiously flutters her wings as she follows Gem towards the music.

Gem stands next to the jukebox and bobs her head to the beat. “I love the way Impulse’s drumbeat sounds. It’s such a fun rhythm.”

“It is,” Pearl says. She allows herself to tap her foot a few times, but she forces herself to keep her head and wings still. Be normal, Pearl. Your partner helped make this song. Don’t make her feel weird.

Gem’s guitar riffs join the instrumental. Pearl holds her hands behind her back and wraps her arms around her wings, but she can’t stop bouncing on her toes. She does her best to watch and mirror Gem’s expression.

Except Gem doesn’t do that.

Gem bobs her head side to side, letting the weight of her antlers shift her body back and forth. She taps her feet loudly, mimicking Impulse’s drum rhythm. When the song loops, Gem giggles and claps her hands over and over. As energy builds up inside her body, Gem bounces on her toes and wiggles her fingers in the corners of her vision.

Pearl watches. She’s supposed to find Gem’s movements weird or off-putting. She’s supposed to cringe and turn away. She’s supposed to react in any of the ways people have reacted to her in her years growing up.

Gem shakes her head again, sending her curly red hair drifting in the wind. She catches Pearl’s eye and grins.

Pearl feels a soft blush spread across her face. She’s beautiful.

Pearl lets her arms fall to her sides. Her wings flutter. Her head bobs.

Gem’s guitar riff begins again.

Pearl and Gem, two halves of the same celestial coin, dance together. The room overflows with giggles, flapping hands, bouncing rhythms, and pure joy. At one point, they both impulsively grab hands and spin around. Pearl flaps her wings, lifting Gem into the air, and Gem lights up with laughter. The song repeats over and over, but neither Pearl nor Gem feels their energy fade. They’re sharing it with each other, humming the guitar tune and bouncing in rhythm. When Pearl finally gets tired and takes the disc out of the jukebox, she and Gem both flop down on their backs, laughing with flushed faces and messy hair.

As their laughter turns to calm breathing and their grins melt into peaceful smiles, Gem turns to Pearl. “I’m really glad you like it. I’ve been practicing guitar a lot lately.”

Pearl’s eyes widen. “Wait, did you write that?”

“Mhm!” Gem nods. “That was an early project. I dug it up when Cub asked.”

“That was so good! You have to write so much more, Gem. It was so catchy.”

“Maybe I’ll have to share some more music,” Gem says. “I’ve got a few things I haven’t shown anyone.”

“Yes, please! Anytime!” Pearl grins. “I think I’ve probably listened to this song a hundred times by now.”

Gem laughs sheepishly. “Oh, I’m gonna do that the moment I get home.”

They lie together on the carpet for a moment longer, holding hands. Pearl grins mischievously, stands up, picks up the disc, and drops it back into the jukebox.

As they dance with each other again, Pearl and Gem have never felt more graceful.

[kaltsektion]

If anyone here is using bluesky, I'm on there now!

will be a mix of art & personal things I hope!

[surrealisticduvet]

Album Review: Infinite Rider on the Big Dogma (1979)

What is it? 

Infinite Rider… on the Big… Dogma.

What?

With this album, I decided to go with the “write as you re-listen” method of reviewing, since I knew I had so much to say about many of the songs individually. I hope this is as half as enjoyable to read as it was to write. As always, please let me know if you have any comments or dissenting opinions, I would love to hear them!

Without further, or really any, ado, we have “Dance”, a frivolously thrilling and unusual new style from our Michael. I am always a little shocked by its usage here as an opener, so used to it being the outro to Elephant Parts, in which many Infinite Rider songs feature. The instrumentation is rich and complex, in stark contrast to the lyrics –  “All I wanna do is dance and have a good time”. In some ways it leaves you confused as to why this wasn’t a big radio hit - is it the way he sings it, almost ironic in its empty-headedness? Is it just his bad luck? The song is too short to let you ponder for long. 

Next, we have “Magic” – my main gripe with this song, unfortunately not a bug but a feature, is the kitschy way he sings some of the high notes (we know for a fact he can hit them without so much falsetto fanfare) but it does add to the subtle irony of the song. Hidden underneath that facade, buried in the full, sustained notes of the chorus, is his true capacity. This song has a bit of a festive undertone with the bells lightly jingling, adding to the feeling of, genuinely, magic. Once again, this song is expertly produced, musically (aside from the background vocals “do-do-dooing” which I think is sometimes overkill) - there are a lot of layers which prevent it from sounding like a cheap holiday commercial.

I completely stand by the belief that “Flying” is an Eagles parody. Listen to this, and then listen to something like “One of These Nights.” I maintain also that this song is at least a parody of something, with lyrics that are deceptively genuine at first before dipping into deep unseriousness, all sung as straight-faced as ever. The middle eight here is again just exquisite. I wish there was an instrumental of this track particularly, although his vocals are so good that I wouldn’t push too hard for it. This song sounds like it ought to be played to a packed arena, something almost on the same level, musically, as “Comfortably Numb.” As the song fades out, you get a bit of a better listen to the drum and rhythm section, which has a unique stylistic blend and flare that, once again, adds depth to what otherwise might be called a boring album. (Misguided Rateyourmusic users have called it his “most accessible” album [read: contemporary, standard-issue, basic! – more on this at the end] but I disagree, at the risk of sounding pretentious… Infinite Rider is a complex and borderline experimental album; it just so happened that he was experimenting with things that happened to be in popular music at the time.)

Much like taking songs from The Prison out of their context as a soundtrack in order to review them musically, it is critical to take “Tonite” out of the context of Elephant Parts, in which it is evergreen in its evocation of the special as a whole – they were literally made for each other. The lyrics are weird, for Michael - on a first listen, you’ll be a little put off by them, until you get to the bridge and chorus, which swings back to the sort of strangeness that you’re used to, and now the old Hollywood oddness from the beginning starts to make a little sense. Three for three, these songs have so much going on musically that you never have a chance to be bored or question his intentions. There’s expert use of a piano/synth solo here which in some ways really dates the album as being from the late 70s/early 80s but that’s what I like so no complaints here. As the song ramps up towards the end (nearly unrecognizable from the moderately paced introductory verse) Michael slips into a rougher tone and drives the whole thing home. Careful listeners will catch the “I’m still inside of a little glass tube - I’m still inside of this room” as it fades out; a tasteful callback to the final scene of Head (1968), or just a bit of before-its-time commentary on the effect of fame on an individual’s psyche? Infinite Rider gives you no time at all to chew and swallow thoughtfully - the next song is already upon us.

“Carioca” is the first and only real reprieve you’ll get on this album, and it is still a wonderful song. Much like “Rio,” this song is inspired by what we can assume to be Michael’s fond memories of seeing Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in Flying Down to Rio (1933). His ability to belt out a chorus shines here, supported by pleasant instrumentation. Take a breath while you can, because up next we have…

… “Cruisin’”. If you’ve heard any song from this album already, it’s probably this – and you’ve probably seen a little bit of the music video from Elephant Parts, too. The verses are low-key and casual, and the whole thing reeks of sun-tan oil and hot tarmac. Whether or not you consider this to be Michael’s coming-out party, it’s still a compelling song much in the style of something like the Traveling Wilbury’s “Tweeter and the Monkey Man.” On its own, the song is fairly middle-of-the-road; it’s the music video that really makes it pop, with visual cues lining up perfectly to the song and Michael’s own performance of it (in those sunglasses...) 

From “Cruisin’” we dive straight into “Factions,” perhaps more memorably titled in early versions as “The Daughter of Rock n' Roll.” He didn’t invent anything new with the song, but definitely proved that he could keep up with the times, musically. The things he does with his voice here are almost foreign, a tone and gravel that we’ve never heard from him before. The song itself is good, with clever lyrics and an interesting story, a classic Nesmithian take on the contemporary “rock ‘n’ roll song about rock ‘n’ roll.” It’s not at the top of the album for me, but any song that effectively uses and rhymes the word “Boogie” gets a free pass for me. 

Take another deep breath at the end of this one, because you’re about to experience what is possibly, maybe probably, my favorite song of his ever: “Light.” Immediately, he has dropped the ironic and performative vocal quirks, and is once again singing in his own sweet tenor, with just a few humorous dips to keep you guessing. This song effortlessly blends bleating saxophone solos with laid-back steely drum meanderings, quivering organ overtones, and a sturdy, pulsing bassline. The lyrics are simple, yet powerful – “but the light from the window is the brightest of all” among others. I find it interesting that the song is called not “lights” plural, but “Light,” singular, implying that these eclectic lights are all interconnected, blending together from and into one infinite form. Once you have seen the music video for this, you’ll never listen to the song without its dancer flashing and jumping through your mind, it’s truly mesmerizing and at times otherworldly – again, the visions of the dancer and Michael are melded together by the use of mirrors and cutaways to create a mind bending effect. “Light” clocks in at 3:21 and feels even shorter; it ends almost abruptly, with the sax trailing off. I usually have to listen to it at least a second time to really let it sink in. 

One Tumblr user has in the past posited that we should “kill Horserace and replace it with a second Light” (Surrealisticduvet, 2024), and I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment. Much like “The Other Room” is on From a Radio Engine to the Photon Wing, “Horserace”’s placement here is jarring, uncouth, and downright disrespectful to the rest of the album. Okay – now that I’ve gotten all that out of my system, let me explain why it just doesn’t work for me. While many songs on Infinite Rider have lyrics that are tongue-in-cheek, parodical, and dare I say intentionally silly, “Horserace” feels to me almost sloppy. Many words are rhymed with each other in such a way that it doesn’t feel intentional, meaning that by default it sounds amateurish. Michael here utilizes the same growl that he does on “Factions” and to some extent “Dance,” but it overpowers the track to the point where I had a hard time focusing on the music. (When I managed to, I confirmed to myself that it wasn’t as intricately crafted as any of the first 7 songs, and certainly not the last one we just listened to.) I’ve always said that even Michael’s worst songs are still worth listening to; such is not the case with “Horserace.” Listen to “Light” a second time and then hit that skip button.

“Capsule” is another one of those songs that Michael co-wrote with a few other people, and it is, dare I say, obvious. I like what he was trying to do, and the song sounds interesting, with a cool, jazzy swing. I don’t think it’s among his best work, either vocally or lyrically, and it’s a bit of a disappointing closer to an otherwise fast-paced and densely enjoyable album. 

I have to give a little shout out to the album’s outtakes, which I actually didn’t even know about until very recently. “Rollin’” is a real foot-tapper that takes his old song “Roll With the Flow” and revamps it in late-70’s radio-rock fashion with a “Mama Rocker”-style piano breakdown that sweeps up and down the keys. The whole song is pretty simple, but fun and effective, and I really like it. “Walkin’ in the Sand” is an interesting track, a true outtake in the sense that it breaks free from the one-word-title constraint he set for himself on this album. It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard from him, ramping up his affinity for minor-keys to a new level, with a glaring bass riff like something from the Arctic Monkeys (sorry, I can’t think of a more period-appropriate comparison). I’d be curious about what he could do in this style if given a whole album to play with – but if all we ever got was this one song, I’m still thrilled. 

Conclusion:

I think Infinite Rider, despite being perhaps more well-known during its time than his other albums, is largely misunderstood. (To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to enjoy his… oh, god, listen to me.) Some reviews call it his most accessible album, and laud his return into the sphere of pop music. I have a hard time explicitly agreeing with these assertions; I don’t think the album’s true intentions are as wholesome, simplistic, and popularity-seeking as some may claim. Much like The Prison was written as a soundtrack, Infinite Rider was written as a “video album” – to listen to “Magic” or “Cruisin’” on their own, without the music video, is to experience only half of the song. Even tracks which were not released with a visual component, I would argue, must still be considered within this context.

Critics also say that this album was overproduced and that there’s too much going on, instrumentally; this is just a difference of taste – I like an album you can listen to half a dozen times over and still hear something new. One amateur reviewer (my peer, I suppose) said that they appreciated the album since, despite its tongue-twisting title, it was easy to enjoy without having to crawl into Nesmith’s head to “get” it. Well, I guess I can’t argue with that – Infinite Rider’s appeal lies in the fact that to the casual listener, it is a good rock ‘n’ rollin’ time that ends after 38 minutes and 15 seconds; for anyone with enough time on their hands to dig a little deeper, rest assured that Michael will not disappoint.

[indiestsnake]

here’s a personal ranking of every single fish in a birdcage song currently released, worst to best. cuz why not.

#39: Roots. Not my style, not what I rlly listen to fish for, and paced a bit too oddly for my taste.

#38: Otherside. Again, I don’t rlly come to fish for more electronic sounds, unless it’s in tandem with more acoustic stuff. Also, it’s repetitive.

#37: Movies. This is where the ranking gets infinitely harder, because I literally like every single fish in a birdcage song. Even the last two. Movies is just a bit too lyrically simple and unevocative. Doesn’t make me feel, just a nice tune.

#36: Lion. Again, nice tune, bit to simple with the lyrics. Or rather the lyrics just… don’t conjure much for me.

#35: If Trees Could Talk. Nice wrap up to the album, and an enjoyable tune with good lyrics. Just not personally my taste, a bit too slow n simple.

#34: Gideon. Kind of a fusion of Still and Drunk on Pride if memory serves, but that’s the thing. Memory doesn’t serve. It’s a lil forgettable, especially since so many songs in the album are rather similar.

#33: Man O’ War. Do I need to explain? It’s Man O’ War. Pirate shanty incarnate. Great, but doesn’t really make me feel. but like. MANN OH WAR, OOH-III-OH! FERRY US ALONG, WITH FREIGHTS OF GOLD!!!

#32: Sand. Wonderful. Calm, melancholic, bittersweet. The only reason it’s here is cuz you have to be in the right place to like it. Too slow n sad to listen in an average playlist, too melancholy to be comforting at times. Still good.

#31: Still. I really like still. But still is also, as they say, weird as shit. Gives me a very specific image all the way through, just a bit odd to listen to. Do not put this in your sleep playlist, you will enter another reality.

#30: Calamity. Ohh, calamity. Boss battle music!! And great for it. Bit generic tho. *lightning strike sound effect*

#29: Two sides. Finally out of the Man O’ War barrage lol. I like it! It’s simple, enjoyable. That’s… about it. Not insubstantial, just exactly what it says on the tin. Two sides.

#28: Blessed by a Curse. Fan-fuckin-tastic chorus, but i wish they’d let the instruments speak for themselves more. The “woawoawowoho…” messes with it for me. But that piano hit!! And the STRINGS!!!

#27: Poet. Poet’s damn good! For like. A minute and a half. lol. The parts with the vocals are great, the end is wonderful, but it’s mostly made of instrumental that isn’t as good as the rest.

#26: Brothers. Guys. What if we took Drunk on Pride and Man O’ War and merged them?!? Wouldn’t that be cool!? And it would, but… again, a bit generic. We’ve heard this before, in those songs. Tbh a lot of Man O’ War as an album feels vaguely based around Drunk on Pride and Gideon. It’s weird. I like it.

#25: Moonlight. Lovely. Makes you cry when you need to, and comforts you when you don’t. Like sand, but more applicable.

#24: Amigo. Dabudabudabudabaduadadudabadatdye, dadatdababudu, dabudabubaddudatdudaba dabudabudadubatdadatdadada! Lyrically simple, absolute vibe. Love it.

#23: Drunk on Pride. Great, fucking love the strings here. Especially that crescendo at the end of the first chorus, I ascend this mortal coil every time I hear it.

#22: Magic. The first rule! A bit boring in subject compared to those above it, but great. That violin riff is holy, and the “DA badabada DA” in the melody is great.

#21: Child of the Stars. Really cool, like if you took all the good of Otherside and mixed in some Waterfall, and a bit of poet. Motivational, and those violin riffs… ough. Love em.

#20: The secret rule, Rule #6!! Also known as- Fuck it either way. lol. For those unaware, this rule isn’t published due to some personal preferences of Dusty(the project lead/singer). Mainly cuz it has fuck in the title. There’s a few vids on YouTube of it if you wanna listen. ANYWAY. Great tune, great melody. If a bit lyrically on the nose.

#19: Like a Rock. Like a Rock is slept on. It’s a weird, experimental end to a weird, experimental album, and it shows! The pacing is a touch syncopated, tone can be odd. But man, that fucken guitar melody. And the instrumentals. And, the one part at the end. If you’ve listened, you know.

#18: Rule #34. Had to come eventually, eh? Yes, that was a juvenile joke. Anyway. The strings, the piano, all of the instrumental goes so hard. Especially after the last chorus, when the piano really comes in. And yes, the lyrics do make me vaguely uncomfortable, and that means it’s a bit detached meaning wise. But it is too good to simply leave at the bottom. And yes, all of that wording was intentional. I know what I said.

#17: My Dream, My Addiction. What a song name. I love the strings, the way it’s slow and loud and so many things. It’s hard to decipher, and I love it. It’s just a bit odd for an average playlist, but it’s here mostly on principle anyway. Just too personally interesting to leave low.

#16: Angel Tango. It’s like. The same as My Dream, My Addiction. But a bit less obtuse and weird. Only a bit tho, still kinda odd in a real good way. One spot above feels right.

#15: Lore. Lore! Recent-est song as of now. I fuckin love it, I genuinely just wish it had a bit more. The cello, the ethereal vocals, the everything. But a bit too short, feels kind of insubstantial. A few more lines per chorus would’ve gotten it quite a few places higher.

#14: Momento Mori. ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUUUUST! Absolute vibe, the lyrics are my favorite kind of esoteric and odd, the guitar is great, all real good. At this point, the only thing placing songs higher is them doing what others have done, better.

#13: James Picard. Gorgeous. I love this one so much, the strings are just heavenly. Vocals are wonderful, the harmonies, and the story, ough. Love it.

#12: Throne Room. Again, the cellos and violins. This one is similar to the rest of the album, but unlike many others, it’s so damn unique. The feeling of majesty and mysticism, the lyrics, that chorus of ominous chants before those beautiful strings kick back in. The flare sound effect, ough, it’s all just great.

#11: Microphone. We’re getting into the interchangeable zone, everything below is amazing. For this it’s the starting cello, and the ending cello. Oh, and the middle cello! And the vocals. And the cello!!

#10: Four Aces. More than the sum of its parts. The chain sound effects, and the dull, venomous delivery. The shout in the middle, the story it tells so perfectly and simply. The last lines, where the vocals rise just slightly, making you prep for another shout-! And then they fall. No release, just a few strums and the sounds of shackles, chains, shovels and spades. It all fits like a puzzle.

#9: Fiddler’s Heart. Like, c’mon. It’s Fiddler’s hearts. Fiddly, jovial, simple and lovely on the ears. The story and character, the constant variety of wonderful violin in the back. Great. Perfect, and I mean PERFECT, to listen to on a summer walk.

#8: Long Way From Home. I love the electric guitar in this so much. This is everything good about Roots, Otherside, all of the more electrical stuff they’ve made, raised up and properly realized. It’s repetitive, but it works, because the variation in the instrumentals, and tone, and delivery. It just works. It is Otherside’s heroic father figure whom it looks up to. I love it.

#7: Fish in a Birdcage. The icon! All of the band’s stranger and more strings-based stuff, given the Long Way From Home treatment. Or I guess it’s the other way around. Whatever. It’s weird as shit, it sounds awful on first listen but it somehow sounds amazing after a few more. And the sound is not something you get in any other song, period. Acquired taste incarnate, and I love it for that.

#6: Arizona. The other secret rule!! For the unaware, Arizona is a song that has been recorded and made, but they haven’t decided what rule number it should be. Thus, it’s regulated to a YouTube video if you’d like to listen. And if you didn’t notice the placement, you should. It just… I don’t even know. The vocals and the guitar fit so perfectly, the melody has that quiet quiet, LOUD thing like in magic but perfected. It just works for me. Something about it.

#5: Pyre. Ohhhhh, Pyre. How I adore you. The accordion(actually it might just be two violins but whatevs) that you get nowhere else in their music. The warmth, the vocals, it’s like the motivational parts of Child of the Stars taken to its peak. The type of song that makes you believe people care about you. Fantastic, wonderful, beautiful. I adore it.

#4: Birds of a Feather. I LIED!! THIS is the best summer walk song. Jovial, happy, tells a wonderful story (that’s based off a real Irish pirate queen), has hints of pyre in its tune. And, lemme talk about the importance of preserving history like this. Ireland got fucked over by the British. A lot of culture got erased. And that two-sentence summary really doesn’t convey it. But things like this preserve a truly vast and enthralling culture that is halfway lost to time in modern day. I’m not Irish, but I am a lover of history. And knowing the culture Ireland and so many other places lost, the culture it’s still bleeding today… it makes this song mean a lot more.

#3: Through the Tides. This song is a goddamn lullaby, and that is said in the best way possible. The ethereal and misty melody at the beginning, the gentle and constant picking of an electric guitar. The beautiful high notes on a violin to accent it, the almost mystical and mythologized story told through the lyrics. It makes me care so much, feel so comforted, by a theoretical whale that I have never once heard of before. Calm and peace incarnate, makes me feel like a cloud of mist. A blade, gently gliding through the tides.

#2: Paperwork. Paperwork! PAPERWORK!!! This feels like a thesis for Fish in a Birdcage as a band. Freeing listeners from routine patterns of thought, the warm resonations of a wayward writers guitar. Also, I adore the tone and message. It criticizes industrialism, but it’s not angry, or rude, or vitriolic. At worst it’s jokingly chastising the listener. Relax, my guy! It’s a fixable problem! Kick back, don’t have a fucken heart attack over it. Just plant some trees, live your life, create things. Don’t get caught up in the paperwork. I love the meaning of the song, if you couldn’t tell. The music is great too, the relaxed, happy tune. The one-minute monologue at the start that they honestly make work really well. It’s just great. I love it.

#1: Waterfall. Are you surprised? I don’t think you are. The vocals are goddamn perfect. The melody, waxing and waning between gentle picking to rhythmic strumming. The drums always different, the beautifully timed symbol crashes that accent everything perfectly. The little “Hey!” In the background after every verse, the fucking transcendent basswork. God, the basswork. I posted about it earlier and that genuinely inspired this list. The story of two people the song tells, the genuinely perfect, and I mean perfect way of conveying the spark of love. It makes my heart flutter. Just… thinking about the scenario in context of most anything, it makes me get it. It being… love. That spark. Why do you think I refer to love as flame more often than not in my writing? And!!! It’s four and a half minutes too! This is the opposite of insubstantial!! Everything about this song is near-perfect, and I will never get tired of it. It’s mixture of meaning and restraint and simplicity and sheer just being nice on the ears is a solidification of everything I love about this band. It deserves my number one.

That’s the list! Except for Fish in an 8bitcage but somebody else technically made that and also I haven’t listened to it so shh. Feel free to comment on my opinions, tell me I’m wrong, right, whatever. You can comment your own opinions too! Or maybe you’ve never listened to a single song from this band, then you can comment about that. You get the memo. Have a nice day.